It’s 4:26 am. Hump Day.
The scale works, with its condescending blink-blink-blink.
Down B*tch. Down.
It flashes Up.
Up 8 lbs since the last running post over a month ago.
I turn to the morning papers. Headline: Burger King has reached out to McDonald’s with a 1-day cease-fire offer to combine the Whopper with the Big Mac to create the McWhopper. Wow.
I shift uncomfortably on the couch.
Don’t care? Don’t want to? Too hot?
Where’s the disgust? The fury?
Riding Apathy Road here.
Wow. [Read more…]
The heavy things
have come so lightly lately.
But this was what momentum meant:
momentous moments sitting
lined up like shot glasses.
Throw your head back
and throw back your life.
This was predictable;
this is inertia.
Life was immovable,
till it moved.
- Image Source: Mennyfox55
- Poem Source: To Escape From the Commonplaces of Existence
- Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
- Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”
I see and inhabit beauty in a blink.
But it doesn’t change me within.
It doesn’t release the iron jaws of worry,
the buzzing hurry,
the dull certainty that I am, we are,
the world is spiraling down.
Where are you in this?
How can I access the energy
that used to hold me aloft?
~ Dani Kopoulos
When South African filmmaker Dave Meinert took into his life a Great Dane puppy, whom he named Pegasus, he was told that the tiny canine might not live very long due to her difficult beginnings in a squalid backyard puppy mill. With this in mind, Meinert set about documenting Pegasus every day for six months as she walked or tried to walk on a treadmill. He then compiled the footage together and created an incredibly touching time-lapse film entitled “The Pegasus Project.” Meinert discussed the project in an interview with Fast Company.
“Rescuing her was a way for me to be sure she’d be looked after,” Meinert says. “For me, she had already been born—nothing was going to change that. By rescuing her, at least I could be certain that she wouldn’t be discarded.” Rather than dwell on the negatives about her life, he says, “I decided to make a record of the healthy days as a way to celebrate them.”
And also note that today (August 26th) is National Dog Day.
Source: Laughing Squid
“I can’t feel anything in my fingertips,” Manning said. “I’ve talked to a doctor recently who said, Don’t count on the feeling coming back.
The ESPN pundits were chattering about the NFL preseason in the background. Upon hearing Fingertips – Feeling – Not coming back, my attention moves from the morning paper, to the broadcast. I listen.
“It was hard for me for about two years, because one doctor told me I could wake up any morning and it might come back. So you wake up every day thinking, Today’s the day! Then it’s not.”
I gently release my grip from the newspaper, and with feather touch brushes I slide my fingertips over the paper. Back and forth and then again. And again. And again.
Skin on paper.
A boy, hand in his pocket, fingers his favorite polished stone.
The paper is dry, smooth.
A trace of ink stains both fingertips.
Today’s the Day!
Inspired by Albert Einstein’s quote: “There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle.”
- Manning quotes: NBCSports.com – Manning Still Can’t Feel Fingers, But Otherwise Feels fine.
- Photo: Ilaria Luciani – “Touch“
- Related Posts: Miracle? All of it.
Perhaps we wouldn’t need chapels if our lives were already clear and calm (a saint or a Jesus may never need to go into a church; he’s always carrying one inside himself). Chapels are emergency rooms for the soul. They are the one place we can reliably go to find who we are and what we should be doing with our own lives—usually by finding all we aren’t, and what is much greater than us, to which we can only give ourselves up.
“I like the silent church,” Emerson wrote, “before the service begins.”
~ Pico Iyer, Where Silence is Sacred
The windows mist up and clear.
Wipers, never short of stamina, never lose their rhythm, clear the morning rain.
The soft click of the back and forth, lull me into a gentle place.
Waze signals 10.5 hours in front of us.
I’m the first to carry the baton.
I’m pressing to slingshot over the GW Bridge ahead of rush hour.
Rain, highway warning signs, road construction.
Truckers, tourists, insomiacs – all being squeezed, four lanes into one.
We fly out of the shoot and enter the NJ turnpike.
The right hand makes slight course corrections.
The right foot steady, to 82 mph.
Makin’ time in Summer time.
Susan sleeps in the back.
Eric snores to my right.
But for the hum of the engine, the cabin is quiet.
A thin stream of light lines the horizon, dawn stretching to lift Night.
More like Levithan’s Unquiet – words and thoughts crash into each other.
It’s Eric’s Senior Year.
Mom and Dad are dropping off their precious cargo and deadheading back.
The Melancholy Bus rides again. [Read more…]